We spend our lives
searching

do we even know
for what?

we move through
light

trudge through
shadows

feet stumble,
slip
on unsteady rocks

stumble, slip

fall

and

rise again

to face the next day
the next challenge

hoping for another
chance

and fire enough

to light the lamp
that guides

through storms
and darkness

through pain
and heartbreak

through confusion
and despair

fall...

recover

next step...

do it all again

for

hope shines
and
dreams beckon

I wish I could spend every moment
every moment here with you...
reading all your words,
each line and sentiment

words of love and anger, longing and despair,
words of compassion,
of confusion and fear
all your words of pleading,
all your words of prayer

though the page begs me to stay and read
time will not allow...
it simply won't stand still
it's counting every second,
counting them with speed

so much here to read but so little time
feeling guilty if I do,
more so if I don't
lured by the richness,
seduced by the rhyme

knowing they're here for me to find
I hate to miss the diamonds
or overlook the gold
dabs of wisdom,
nubbins of wit of the rarest kind

it would be an extraordinary coup
giving time
and
contemplation to them all
reading each one,
reading the whole way through

though that's what I'd love to do
I can't seem to find the time
so I'll read on,
it may only be a few

but I'll give my full commitment
while I savor every word,
each deep-felt thought
of those I  discover
by happy accident

because I treasure what you share
gifted writers that you are
gifted writers...
poets extraordinaire

Within this restless
hurried modern world*
marching bands
and flags unfurled
voices raised just
to be heard
but no one
understands a word
the tower of "Babble"
all nonsense spoken
listening has become
just a token
minds run past
what's being said
forming responses
in one's head
planning the next
clever remark
what goes in is just noise
thrashing around in the dark
it's no wonder
divorce is rampant
no wonder world leaders
rave and rant
like leaves blowing aimlessly
in an autumn breeze
words fly about but
no one understands or sees
daily bombarded
by traffic sounds
music blaring far too loud
whirs and rumbles all around
is there no escape, no peace
no contemplative space
where one can go to clear the head?
where one can step to leave this race?

if there is
please take me there
take me while

I still have hair!

I see you there
suspended for a time
between the shadow
and the light.

You look pale
but peaceful,
in a dream state.

I rest awhile,
a shallow sleep,

then I awake

knowing…

without words
my mind whispers

it’s time

I gently wipe your lips,
brush a stray hair
from your forehead.
It’s all I know to do.

Then I sing
a cherished lullaby
hoping you hear me
hoping it wraps you in love
as my arms wrapped
around you
as a child.

I hold your hand,
kiss your forehead.
In that instant I see
and feel all you’ve been
all that is you

tiny wrinkled infant
delightful, smiling six-month old
curious toddler
proud school age
struggling teen
loving adult

realizing
we're losing all of these,
all that you've been
all that is you

then

I feel your spirit leave…

for that brief moment
I’m overcome with a calm
I can’t describe.

A gift rare and precious –

as I was there
when you entered the world
I was with you
when you left.
     ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~        

"The butterfly counts not months but moments and has time enough."  
Rabinadrath Tagore

Hand-in-hand
with the Muse
I feel ageless
timeless

with that guide
how could one lose?

ageless, timeless

when my skin is warmed
in morning sun

when I delight in
childhood fun

kaleidoscopes
colorful jumble
juxtaposed
to unique
lace-like designs

playground swings and slides

making wishes on
dandelion seeds
or stars shooting
in the amethyst evening sky

watching the flight of a butterfly

building sand castles
as the waves
tease the edge
and tickle toes

counting petals on a rose

lying in velvet grass
watching silken clouds
in the cerulean sky beyond

viewing the breaking of the dawn

walking in a gentle rain
rhythm of a rumbling train

rejoicing in these again and again

and...
when I die
I will be
just for that brief moment
but no more
all at once
all those ages
I was before

my soul set free
I then will be
timeless
ageless
for eternity.

She's younger than me
She's just eighty-three
but you'd think she's
a hundred and ten.
She talks of her aches.
She talks of her pains.
Then she tells them all over again.

She wins all the "prizes"..
She likes to advise us
on all the troubles she has
like sun-burning too easy
and how she gets queasy,
flat feet, sinus problems and gas!

She has all of these plus
she's weak in the knees.
Her heart sometimes beats out of time.
The bugs like her better.
She says they all get her.
Her bites swell the size of a dime.
(Actually, a quarter but it didn't rhyme.)

She has trouble sleeping.
She has trouble eating.
Some foods they give her the hives.
To hear when she tells it,
she isn't so well. It's a wonder
she's even alive.

Too healthy am I.
I can't even try
to keep up with the conversation.
The ante's too much.
Her ails I can't touch.
I've not even had operations.

She has, you know, from
her head to her toe.
They've taken out pieces and parts.
She keeps them in jars.
They're never too far
to be shown at a game of hearts.

When she whips out her stones
and pieces of bones,
we just smile and then nod our heads.
She knows she's the winner and
we're just beginners.
"Hey, can't we talk about
the weather instead?"

In still and dark of night
the mystery begins.
Ancient call that brings her
where once before she's been.

Her legs in sea were wings
on land they struggle so,
laboring, lumbering
to move her body slow.

Where sea has shaped the shore
and ceaseless winds have blown
she signs her name behind her
in writing yet unknown.

As she gives her gifts, she cries.
Are they tears of pain she weeps?
Are they for her children,
children that she will never see?

She breaks open the sky
to set free the stars,
her supporting cast.

Bursting onto the stage
with no apology,
no regret,

confident the spotlight is hers,
she shimmers boldly
till a passing cloud
covers her

after it moves on

she calmly returns
for another curtain call.

Ten words can say a lot

concise,

not much plot

You can't see
stars above ~

for ones in your eyes

He's your other half
your heart's deep red
your soul's mystery
your life in your head

He's the warmth of sun
your morning light
the stars of evening
moon shining bright

In the chill of winter
he's your temple of fire
a refuge, a sanctum
of burning desire

When beads of sweat
form on your brow
he gently smooths, then
cools as he alone knows how

You're bonded, so close
how can we know
where one begins,
the other one goes

A unit, a whole
that won't come apart
one being, one soul
rhythm of one heart.

This is a story from long ago
in the third month of the year
when on a clear and sunny day
a mighty ship set sail, crew without a fear.

They sailed along for days
on tranquil quiet seas,
clear skies, no clouds in sight
just a hushed but working breeze.

The sails were set to catch the wind
though it wasn't much.
The crew enjoyed the journey;
the captain had never seen it such.

The voyage was calm and glassy smooth;
the ship sailed along with ease.
They made great time toward their goal.
Captain Caesar was quite pleased.

On day fifteen things seemed to change;
the ship rocked a bit and swayed.
The "breeze" began to come in gusts;
still crew and captain neither were afraid.

They'd been in storms on land.
They'd been in storms at sea.
So they battened down the hatches
and turned the ship to lee.

The wind grew and swelled,
got stronger.
It moaned and caterwauled.
"SOS! All hands on deck!"
Captain Caesar called.

Black clouds grew as the storm brewed,
the sailors nervous now.
Huge waves crashed and splashed
like foamy giants pounding
on the stern and on the bow.

The ship was rocked about.
The crew began to pray.
It brought them to their knees.
As they slipped and slid
they wailed "Save us, save us, please!"

The mainsail split, the lines came loose
flapping wildly all around.
The big ship creaked and groaned.
It made a deathly sound.

Now the ship was going down.
"Deliver us from this fate.
Don't let us sink, don't let us drown!"
pleaded first and second mate.

The ship continued to descend
into the briny depths.
No help appeared, no ship came near.
These would be their final breaths.

The ship was nearly gone.
The sails had lost all starch.
As the crows' nest sank from sight,
Captain Caesar yelled,
"Beware the Tides of March!"

.... are gems
Some are not
Deal with it

walk with me
through dark of night
be my light

The night swallows
the sun
bartering with the shimmering stars.

Where have all the fireflies gone

asked

the dark sky

There was a young man named Cesar
Who presented a challenging teaser
He said cheer me up
Filling my cup
Don’t be an underachiever.

There’s a judgmental squirrel awaiting
For something truly amazing
Make something pretty
write something witty
Show him that you are creating.

There he sits looking proud in his tree
uttering you’d better please me
I don’t like disappointment
Or casual mistreatment
This is my official decree.

All the people jumped quickly to act
Cesar’s tough challenge was attacked
The judge was appeased
Members no longer were teased
The squirrel judge was totally shocked

The devil whispers
"You can't withstand the storm."

The warrior replies
*"I *am the storm!"

I know the heart is a heavy thing
and if today you managed to lift it
a few inches off the ground,
I am proud.
You need to understand that there are no turning points.
Your life is not a movie and your fears will not disappear
as soon as someone loves you back. There are only moments
when the glimmer of light you are chasing seems closer than the darkness that is always chasing you but in these moments
every single thing has been worth it.
And I know sometimes you only want it over, this never ending war
but the battle raging within ourselves is the only one worth fighting.
I do not believe in much, but of that-
of that I am sure.
In spite of it all be a force for good wherever you can. Every smile
to a stranger is a little victory. So smile now.
You are alive.
And please understand that victory
is not a sunrise to the zenith
victory is getting out of bed
and finding for the first time in weeks you are not so afraid.
Trust your gut, or whatever part of your life you believe in the most.
The only decisions I regret are the ones I didn’t really make myself.
Hope and wishful thinking are two different things, and only
one is going to hurt you. The other is something to cling to
with everything you have, and never lose sight of.
Sometimes love is tenderness. Sometimes love is flowers and sometimes
love is a small patch of soil and a packet of seeds.
Love is never someone telling you how hopelessly broken you are
and telling you it’s good.
Remember the tides rise and fall and never meet but the sea
goes on looking for itself on the other side of the world. Even the sea has hope
and it’s the biggest **** being on Earth.
Remember time is a concept that humans created and clocks may stop ticking but reality never runs out.
Your chances are endless.
Remember every step back is another step you know how to take forward.
Nothing’s ever wasted.
The last thing to remember is that however much they take
from you, your demons will never be satisfied. And I know this is a terrifying thought
but it also means they are always fighting a losing battle.
However long the war goes on, there is only one possible winner
and the winner is you.

I search for the right words.
You patiently wait.
I speak...
slowly...
deliberately.
You understand.

Is it because we know
that each word
that passes our lips
carries with it
cradled somewhere
a piece of our souls?

For so long
as I moved about
in a foggy sleep
a dark and misty dream
my soul was held captive
a prisoner to fear and doubt
distrust and bitterness.

Then I awoke.
I learned freedom
learned to love again.
Yet even now
my soul flows out
with caution
choosing carefully its vehicle
attaching tentatively
to the words.

Like a fledgling
unsure
yet
certain it must fly
I speak...
slowly...
deliberately.
You understand.
I search for the right words.
You patiently wait.

You give me wings!

I lie helpless on my side
eye bulging
grotesquely
body heaving
in desperate struggle
to find oxygen
mouth puffing
on a hook.
I lie for an eternity
gasping
with renewed impetus
at each bubble of surf
that teases my lips
while unrelenting waves
carry me further in
further out
scouring my underside
on the grit.

Overhead the gulls
circle
screeching as if arguing
over whose catch I am.
Finally
one breaks away from their band.
Diving clumsily
landing near my head
he follows my movement
in the surf.
In blessed relief
my under eye is scraped
away
while the upper watches
the spear of the gull's beak
as it searches
for my body's most
succulent
spot.

The spear is aimed.
My watching eye prays
to be spared
yet wanting the torture ended
begs the spear take me now.
Finding other parts
more desirable
the gull tears at my flesh
ignoring
the etiquette
of allowing death
to take
first serving.

My eye peers into
his midnight speck
of vision
and
sees itself mirrored there
and
his in mine
and
mine in his again...
souls fused
in eternity.
All the while
my flesh is ripped
and scattered.

Newly enticed
the circle of gulls return
their cries a funeral chant
raw and sepulchral.
As my gaping eye
reflects
the heavens
I watch them descend
in droves
spears ready
for the wake-feast
those awkward angels

swooping
down
for me.

She surrenders
in the soft moonlight
cleverly disguised vestiges
of her being
carefully covering them
with the soft sand
a ritual from deep within her cells.

Her labor complete
she lumbers
back toward the sea
leaving her signature
on the shore
like some ancient writing

The tide will erase
her footprints
but later
embrace her children
pieces of her soul

Your belly like winter's sky
is gray
your back an earthen hue
shades of brown
like fallen leaves brush
softly over you

You jump from branch
to branch
as you hide there
in the bush
many move as one at times
in fluent feathered flush

You watch with careful eye
as you sit on twig so narrow
you sing your song
and dance your dance
content to be a sparrow

The sun
shook in laughter
scattering
tiny pieces
here
and
there
amidst the grass
and leaves
now swaying in the breeze
still laughing all the while

and the sun
found my face
through
the darkness
of sullen clouds

A gathering
of elfin elders
perched
upon the branches

their grizzled beards
hang down
and
sway

as the breeze
around them
dances

Be a child again
come along with me
to make-believe and magic
hopes and fanciful dreams

that's where you'll find it
the peace you're looking for
when you drop your defenses
your masks and your schemes

just believe in fairies
elves and leprechauns
watch for rainbows
pick some flowers
dance out in the rain
sing silly songs
laugh and play

wave madly to a passing train**

find a world of simple pleasure
be a child again
come along with me

I sometimes think it could be ADD
this thing I really know is pestering poetry
it has me by the throat; it has me by the brain
now it has me in my gut, I'll never be the same

it comes when I least expect
it comes when I really don't want it
when I'm trying to do what I do for pay
it comes along brash and undaunted

I try not to do it, truly I do
but it just spills out like an overfilled gutter
"Stop" I tell her "leave me alone.
I don't want to do this" I sputter.

she's always there, that impudent muse
teasing and taunting my head
I can't get her out, I can't shut her up
even at night when I crawl into bed

she sits on the headboard and waits
for her chance to burst into a dream
then shaking me, waking me
in the wee hours she acts out her scheme

she won't take no for an answer
"I'm sleepy" just will not do
it doesn't matter if it's three AM
or if it's barely half past two

she refuses to let me just lie there
"Don't be lazy! Get up and write it;
you know how forgetful you are.
Wake up and don't try to fight it."

There she is, that cruel taskmaster
looking down at me with a smirk
"You'll do as I say. I won't tell you again,
Now stop whining and get to work."

she insists that I follow her orders
battering my mind till it's lame
"You may only write junk; you may only
write garbage, but you'll write it just the same!"

I clench my teeth; I ball my fists
I'll show who's the stubborn one
I'll show her who's boss
before this (oh, drat, a poem) is done!

Like glass that shatters
with a high, shrill voice
words
splinter my feelings
they fall
as shards of mirror
left for me
to see myself
broken and fragmented

I try to pick them up
they pierce and cut
I let them lie
awhile
and
finally sweep them aside
placing them
with all the other pieces
of myself
I no longer wish to see.

How soon
will that be
all
that's left
?

In an empty city lot
scattered
with
jagged glass
and
discarded condoms,
life dried up
and  
stepped on

you exchange dollars
for a glimpse
into
Nirvana

Compost lies quiet
and steaming
holding onto secrets

a fog rises from the pile
and
the stench of life
grows

indulging your bloated appetite,
you usher it
to somewhere unknown
somewhere behind
the yellow door
that closes you off
your mind
a frozen
empty
crypt

to a place where grubs feast
on flesh
and
spirit
eat away till silence
fills the air,

inflates your lungs
lifting you
like a zeppelin
above
the misery
and the muck
floating
your frozen mind
melts
your body tingles
in the warm
flow

through a blinding light
you see
everything at once

all the colors of the rainbow
eternity inside
a raindrop
the blessed numbness
of Nirvana
within your reach

Then I rise
from the steam
I open the yellow door
and fling myself
to
the other side
grabbing
you
by the throat
holding
tight
breathing into your face
hot breath
filled with cobalt smoke
I laugh
maniacally
you are mine
I cram you into a box
jab needles
in your arms
stuff your nostrils
with caustic powder
and
you plunge

I drop you
on your head
into
the middle
of the steaming pile
that opens like jaws
***** you into the colors
that were reflected
in the rainbow
reflected through your tears

up close they are
orange, yellow, and crimson fire
and
smoky blue death
I sneer
you whimper
and we wait
till next time

wait till next time

You've cut ff your feet
to spite your head
Is there nothing left
in between?
is your whole life
blackened
and squandered
rotted and
gnarled
by gangrene?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.

How can you sit
there
with blood on your face
and not feel
it dry to a crust?
How can you sit
there
with gore on your hands
knowing you shiver
from lust?

Join me, come in.
Cavort with the dead.
Join me, come in.
I can't be alone in my head.
You, too, must feel torment
and torture.
You, too, must be plagued
without cure.

Where are you going?
to hell and not back?
Did you buy your ticket
to ride?
or
will you walk
into
the bottomless pit
draped with your badges

flesh putrefied?

Heads on lapels like
an Easter corsage
dead lilies like
those on a grave,

a grave that you dug
then
stepped in to forage
to eat as a worm of the flesh.

Flesh young and tender
that flamed with desire
till your curse
extinguished
the fire.

*Join me, come in.
Come into my fire.
Join me, come in.
We'll wade through
the mire
with blood
in our mouths
and our eyes.

Taste of the pain,
the glorious pain.
Like a gift
I give it to you,
offered again and again,
a philanthropist
swollen with bounty,
who bestows what
he has
like a prize.

Your pain is mine
and yet
it isn't

I know
and yet
I can't know

in your soul
like a fragile snowflake
each memory
crystallizes
creating a space
a space to hold the pain

each remembrance
echoes
another note
in the melody
that plays
in a minor chord

every  anguished face
rends your heart anew

your pain is mine
and yet
it isn't

I know
and yet
I can't know

the spaces in your soul
are different shapes

you alone hear
the haunting strain

the gaping wound
in your heart
is uniquely
yours

your tears
are knowing
tears

I can only cry
for
not knowing

I recognize
the place
that place
inside
loathsome
& suffocating
I see the lost
look in your eyes
watery red glassy
I watch the feigned
joviality and sense
the aching loneliness
it tries to disguise... I
know the self-hatred
brings a death sentence
  lingering tortuous death
with conviction that it is
all that is deserved...you
place yourself on death
row and wait inside
the bottle
...